


Please Don't Bite

by animeangelriku



Series: Spooky Fanfic Week [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vampire!Kurt, human!blaine, klaine AU, who also happens to be a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeangelriku/pseuds/animeangelriku
Summary: Blaine is upset that his vampire boyfriend Kurt doesn’t like dressing up as a vampire for Halloween. Then he finds a way to get his revenge. He’s lucky Kurt loves him as much as he does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The fifth fic of my Spooky Fanfic Week! We're getting so close to the end already, I feel like we just started! Oh, well. 
> 
> This was inspired by the following [prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/132282965524/imagine-person-a-is-dressed-up-like-dracula-for), from the Tumblr otpprompts: "Imagine person A is dressed up like Dracula for Halloween. They keep saying “I want to suck your blood” to person B. Person B (very annoyed) keeps reminding person A that Dracula never said that line." I didn't follow it word by word, but I still had a lot of fun writing it and I love how it turned out!
> 
> You can also find it at my [Tumblr!](http://animeangelriku.tumblr.com/post/152438762017/klaine-please-dont-bite)

Kurt had thought Blaine had fallen asleep while they cuddled against one of the armrests of the couch and watched a marathon of _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ on the TV—his boyfriend, who often pulled Kurt’s arms around his waist so that they held him tighter, had been pretty quiet since the marathon had started around twenty minutes ago. But then Blaine was leaning his head back on Kurt’s shoulder and sighing to himself.

“We would’ve won the costume contest at Santana’s party if you had dressed up as Dracula,” Blaine lamented. 

Kurt nuzzled Blaine’s temple with his nose. Even if they’d gone through this exact conversation twenty-three times already, somehow Kurt wasn’t surprised it was being brought up again.

“Honey,” he said, “we agreed I’d never become the kind of vampire who dresses up as a vampire for Halloween, much less _Dracula_.”

And they had, ever since they had first started going out. Kurt had no problem with vampire costumes—although Blaine had had to stop him from going up to a stranger and telling him, “We actually clean up after drinking, you know!” more than once—but he was sure as hell not going to use one himself. It required almost no effort on his part; he just had to cover his mouth with ketchup or fake blood or red face paint and use a bit of make-up to make the bags under his eyes look deeper, and what was the fun in choosing to be the monster he already was on Halloween? 

Besides, he wasn’t going to use a tacky cape, much less one with a collar that wouldn’t stay upright. 

(Instead, he had decided to dress up as Frankenstein’s monster. Blaine had found it hilarious for some reason.)

“No, I know,” Blaine said, turning in Kurt’s arms so that he could lean against Kurt’s chest on his right side. “I just think you would’ve looked gorgeous as a vampire. Elegant, even, I’d dare say.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine. “Are you saying I don’t look gorgeous or elegant just by _being_ a vampire?” 

Blaine kissed his jaw. “I’m _saying_ ,” he chuckled, “that you would’ve looked so believable, some people would have actually thought you were a vampire.”

“Honestly,” Kurt mumbled, his lips pressed to Blaine’s temple. “I think the Dracula look suits _you_ better.”

His boyfriend huffed out a sigh of resignation, crossing his arms over his chest, and Kurt had to hold himself back from pouncing on Blaine right then and there and pinning him down to the couch and kissing the living daylights out of him while Blaine moaned and squirmed underneath him. Kurt knew how to keep his strength under control—he’d had more than six years of practice now—but his bloodlust tended to overtake him when he least expected him, especially on Halloween night. 

He couldn’t deny that Blaine, dressed up in his own vampire costume, looked better than Kurt could’ve possibly thought: he wore a white buttoned up shirt with a black bowtie and a white vest on top, along with a black jacket, pants, and dress shoes. He had even included one of those dreadful capes Kurt loathed, as well as using so much hair gel that his usually free curls seemed to be glued down to his skull and more than enough white face paint to perfectly match Kurt’s skin tone. The red paint smeared across his lips and fake vampire fangs was Kurt’s idea, though.

Blaine was the living image of the old-school vampires Kurt had met in the last six years, the ones who refused to adapt to the “modern” world because time was fleeting for them, an ephemeral phenomenon that was gone in the blink of an eye; the ones who still looked like the heirs of a long-lasting line of nobility, whose only rightful place was in a castle located somewhere in Romania. 

It almost made Kurt want to turn him, just so they could both be equally fabulous and glamorous and elegant for the rest of time—together. Eternity could only be so fun on his own. 

Kurt shook his head. He had promised, sworn, _vowed_ he would never turn Blaine into a vampire unless Blaine asked for it, and even then, it would have to be under very specific circumstances. 

Blaine apparently realized that Kurt’s mind had taken him somewhere far, far away, and so he started trailing kisses from Kurt’s ear down to his jaw, then all the way back and down to his neck. 

“ _Kurt_ ,” he said, drawling Kurt’s name out in a sing-song tune that resonated against the skin of Kurt’s neck and made a shiver run down his entire body. If his heart still beat and pumped blood throughout his system, he probably would’ve felt it rush to his head. Before meeting Blaine, Kurt thought a vampire developing a neck fetish was cliché and ridiculous and downright stupid, but he had never thought he would have a thing for _Blaine kissing his neck_. Simply having Blaine’s mouth on his neck drove him absolutely wild. 

“ _Kuuuurt_ ,” Blaine repeated, as if he were singing Kurt’s name. He pressed tiny kiss after tiny kiss on his boyfriend’s neck.

Kurt sighed contently. 

“I want…” 

“Hmm?” Kurt hummed, starting to think on ways to keep his bloodlust under control—if Blaine kept kissing him, he was going to end up pinned down under Kurt; first right here, on the couch, then on the floor, then on the wall, and eventually on their bed. 

“I want,” Blaine whispered, cutting his sentence short again.

“What is it?” Kurt prompted. He tightened his arms around Blaine’s waist, and he brought him as close to his chest as he could. If he could just turn Blaine around so that they were face to face… How did his eyes look at this exact moment? Were his pupils wide and dilated against the thin, brown circles of his irises? _God_ , Blaine’s eyes were going to be the death of him, Kurt could spend the rest of eternity staring right into them. 

Blaine’s breath was warm against the coldness of his skin, his lips pressed so tightly to his neck that Kurt felt the smile form across them.

“ _I want to suck your blood_.”

His ridiculously ridiculous—and yet ridiculously _adorable_ —boyfriend was howling with laughter when Kurt scooped him into his arms and shoved him to the opposite side of the couch, as far away from him as he could, he couldn’t even _look_ at him, why was Blaine such a _human_? 

“I hate you,” Kurt grumbled, though Blaine probably didn’t hear him over the sounds of his gleeful screams. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Blaine gasped, his words choked between his tries to stop laughing—without any success. He crawled towards Kurt, who pulled his knees to his chest and crossed his arms as if his limbs could provide some sort of barrier against Blaine. As if Kurt’s limbs weren’t aching to pull him forward until every inch of their bodies was in contact, as if Kurt wasn’t aching to kiss him and bite him and take the breath away from him, to feel Blaine’s chest rise and fall beneath his. “Babe…”

“Don’t _babe_ me, Blaine!” Kurt retorted, trying to keep up a useless façade. “I’ve told you one hundred and fifty-seven times, Dracula never said that line! No vampire has _ever_ said that line!”

“I know,” Blaine said, his laughter finally ceasing. “I just wanted to see how you’d react. Since I’m the one who dressed up as a vampire and all.”

Kurt glared at him. “So this was all because I didn’t want to slap some make-up on and pretend I was wearing a disguise?”

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t _just_ because of that. I honestly just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kurt said. “Get your vampire boyfriend all hot and bothered and then play a cruel prank on him. Mh-hm, okay, I see how it is.” He turned his head back to the TV to continue watching the Freddy Krueger marathon, absolutely decided not to fall into any of Blaine’s tricks to get him to forgive him. 

“ _Kurt_.” Blaine whimpered his name, the little bastard. Oh, how well he knew the things his voice did to Kurt. 

Sometimes Kurt wondered if his boyfriend was the real vampire between the two of them—he had this way of keeping Kurt wrapped around his finger, and Kurt didn’t know if it was because Blaine was secretly a magical creature of some sort, or because Kurt was so unbelievably in love with him. 

It might be the latter. It was most likely the latter.

“ _Kurt_.” Blaine knelt in front of him, resting his hands on Kurt’s knees and leaning his chin on them. Kurt felt an impulse stronger than himself pulling his head towards Blaine, who looked like he was a child who knew he was in trouble, but couldn’t bring himself to regret what he’d done. “Did I really get you all hot and bothered?”

“As if you couldn’t tell,” Kurt muttered. “You know what kissing my neck does to me.”

Blaine’s hands softly, slowly, pushed Kurt’s knees until Kurt spread his legs to let Blaine crawl forward. His palms were suddenly on the back of his neck, and his thumbs were drawing circles on Kurt’s jaw and Kurt’s hands moved to Blaine’s hips on their own volition and then Blaine was kissing him, kissing him without caring about his fangs brushing against his lips, kissing him like he didn’t care that he was a vampire, kissing him like his life depended on it, kissing him as if he wanted to die doing it, kissing him like he _loved_ him.

God, how Kurt loved him. 

Kurt chased after Blaine’s lips when they broke away and kept kissing him as long as he could, wishing Blaine didn’t need trivial things like air and breathing to survive.

“To be fair,” Blaine rasped, panting against Kurt’s mouth after they’d finally pulled apart from each other, “you know what kissing you does to me.”

Kurt let out a broken moan and rested his forehead on Blaine’s shoulder. Even though he didn’t need to, he took a deep breath and exhaled it as slowly as possible to keep his bloodlust under control. Blaine’s wonderful mouth left soft, soothing kisses on his forehead, on his hair, on his temples, and it made Kurt’s savage impulse recede into the depths of his being, little by little. He only needed to survive the next few hours, until the sun rose again, and then he could kiss Blaine all they both wanted. 

In the meantime, Blaine turned around so that Kurt could pull his body to him, his boyfriend’s back pressed against his chest and Kurt’s arms secured around his waist. They had a movie marathon to finish, after all.

“In case you ever want to suck my blood,” Blaine whispered as a young Johnny Depp was killed by Freddy Krueger, “you can use that line and I won’t hold it against you.”

Kurt chuckled, burying his face in the crook of Blaine’s neck. “Duly noted.”


End file.
